Brita, my cousin
(note the lower case!) I hope there is time for us someday. Time
for us to get really, really drunk together. Time for us to have
a knock-down, drag-out. Time for us to clear the air. Even
though I know that you don’t really like to solve problems that way.
I do you suuuuch a disservice. And try as I might, I can’t seem to stop. You see, “C”ousin, when it comes to you green-eyed jealousy has me firmly in it’s grip. So much so that the very sound of your voice grates on my nerves like a burr under the saddle. And your presence is so irritating I have to fight not to strike out.
The worst of it is, that you have done nothing – nothing! – to earn my emnity. You have been kind, patient, truthful and honorable in all our dealings. You are a credit to Amber, Arden and yourself.
And I hate that!
So until we do have time, I avoid you.
. . .
It’s like this... I am... shattered, lost, futilely dead.... I did not get back to my father with my report. Amber’s army marched (and triumphed) without me. I killed no foe, defeated no enemy, enriched Amber in no way. And it took everything I had in me.
And then I return to Amber... older (soooo much older), broken, a stranger to my own self and all who knew me. (Not quite so given to temper but certainly given to hysteria.) To find my duty gone and my life... inherited by another.
You. Dear Cousin.
And so – even though I know it is dark, dangerous and wrong – I stand here, strangling in my own self-pity, watching you enjoying the life you have justifyably earned. Watching with green, cold, furious jealousy in my eyes and in my heart.
It is... evil of me. I know. But until the day comes when I can truly face and understand what happened to me. And maybe – maybe – Unicorn willing start to heal. Until that day, perhaps Brita, it’s better if we don’t get drunk and violent together after all.
Damn.
I do you suuuuch a disservice. And try as I might, I can’t seem to stop. You see, “C”ousin, when it comes to you green-eyed jealousy has me firmly in it’s grip. So much so that the very sound of your voice grates on my nerves like a burr under the saddle. And your presence is so irritating I have to fight not to strike out.
The worst of it is, that you have done nothing – nothing! – to earn my emnity. You have been kind, patient, truthful and honorable in all our dealings. You are a credit to Amber, Arden and yourself.
And I hate that!
So until we do have time, I avoid you.
. . .
It’s like this... I am... shattered, lost, futilely dead.... I did not get back to my father with my report. Amber’s army marched (and triumphed) without me. I killed no foe, defeated no enemy, enriched Amber in no way. And it took everything I had in me.
And then I return to Amber... older (soooo much older), broken, a stranger to my own self and all who knew me. (Not quite so given to temper but certainly given to hysteria.) To find my duty gone and my life... inherited by another.
You. Dear Cousin.
And so – even though I know it is dark, dangerous and wrong – I stand here, strangling in my own self-pity, watching you enjoying the life you have justifyably earned. Watching with green, cold, furious jealousy in my eyes and in my heart.
It is... evil of me. I know. But until the day comes when I can truly face and understand what happened to me. And maybe – maybe – Unicorn willing start to heal. Until that day, perhaps Brita, it’s better if we don’t get drunk and violent together after all.
Damn.
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